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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650215">The Mighty Must Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasrogue/pseuds/deltasrogue'>deltasrogue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Organized Crime, Tags will be added, There will be violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:22:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasrogue/pseuds/deltasrogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marya has been on the wrong side of the internet twice in her life: both deliberate. One to fix what her parents left behind, and once to end a cruel man's spell of terror. She just didn't expect the solution to be in the form of one Helene Kuragin.</p>
<p>Also, guys, I swear I'll continue something. I'm even writing a chapter two for one of my fics as we speak XD Thank you for bearing with me!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marya "Mary" Nikolaevna Bolkonskaya/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova, Marya Dmitryevna Akhrosimova/Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Mighty Must Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is meant to be a little bit confusing, but if this continues it will be explained much more in the next chapter!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marya had always been in control. She was the one managing finances and phone calls-doing business proposals and managing the databases. It was a job meant for entire rooms of people, yet Marya had always been the independent type. She had built the business up from the pile of rubble her parents left along with its debt. The redhead managed to get on her feet with some external help, and now it was running. Stocks were going up, phone calls from the largest CEOs in the country became a regular. With all the money she made and the percentage of which she made, Marya thought she was in the clear. She should have been, but the world didn't always play fair. </p>
<p>There were parts of the world the normal population would never see. Things that were meant to have died out years ago. They were the gambling rings and threats to small shopkeepers, the guns and the hostages in the dead of night. They were deals with unspoken rules that baited the ignorant. But Marya was not ignorant, and she was not the young blood of someone unaware. Marya knew what she had done. She read the contracts carefully, found information from sources documented to the public and those on the dark web. Marya knew the deals and contract she was making and who she was dealing with. Marya was in control: old man Bolkonsky may have been threatening her for more money than he was promised, but she knew his reputation better than he did. She had known the moment she agreed to take his loan rather than the bigger operations that any altercations would be kept between them. </p>
<p>Marya was not in this...<em>world. </em>Not really. She wasn't available for contact on the market, and she hadn't contacted anyone since that loan with the Bolkonskys. Marya thought it was a one and done. To her, it should have been, and it seemed like it was. It had been years without contact-eight, to be exact. Then the notes came. Notes stating the old man was sick: that as someone she had helped in the past, she had an obligation to help. Perhaps she would have helped, too, if she did not know the things she knew about that man. If she did not know his reputation for his hiring of people with no other alternatives so his merciless killings could go unchecked when they did something to inconvenience him even slightly. If she didn't know how he would taunt and cry victim when he didn't fulfill his ends of promises with other organizations. If she did not know from her goddaughter what this man had been doing to his daughter for all these years. She could do with threats and a man losing his sanity, but not for the mistreatment of Mary Bolkonsky. </p>
<p>Marya went on the dark web for the first time in years. The result came in the form of a brunette woman standing in her office with legs crossed and back against the door. Her eyes wore an expression as unbothered as her stance, twisting one of the rings on her fingers. It would have been unnerving in any other scenario, probably, but here it somehow made Marya settle into her office chair a little deeper. "Do you have any questions?" The silence had been going on for long enough Marya broke it. Helene finally met her eyes and the redhead had to blink twice. It was odd-she'd never seen someone's eyes look so empty before. There were no emotions. Nothing. That, or the woman in front of her was unnervingly difficult to read. </p>
<p>"You were the one that called me here," She pointed out, arching an eyebrow when Marya didn't have an instant response. "I can start this discussion, I suppose..." She hummed , gaze flitting around the room. Brown eyes landed on the oil panting of Marya's father on the wall, brows knitting together slightly. The redhead still said nothing. Helene didn't know what the silence was for; she wasn't used to this. "So this is the arrangement you chose?" The brunette clad in all black gestured between them. </p>
<p>"Why?" Marya didn't see another option. Even now, coming down from the height of her rage, the man was relentless. His threats were reaching her family, and that was the last thing she needed. Sonya asked her about a letter. Mary came to Natasha crying. She had the finances to offer. She didn't expect Helene to question business, but the intrigue was enough to request an explanation. "You're looking at me like this shocked you,"</p>
<p>"He's low-profile," Helene offered, shrugging and turning her attention back to the jewelry on her fingers. "No one is going to bat an eye. Except maybe his kids. Miserable things," Her musings were harsh, though Marya didn't know why she would expect anything different. </p>
<p>"You already know about his kids," She observed slowly. </p>
<p>"Of course," Helene rolled her eyes. "He's in his, what, 70s? You think he can secure his information?" </p>
<p>Marya pressed her lips in a firm line, not sure if it was best to follow this line of conversation or just let Helene do her thing. Some questions were best left unanswered for Marya's piece of mind. "Why does him being low profile-"</p>
<p>"Odd to opt for the price tag," </p>
<p>"I knew you'd do it right," The response seemed to make Helene settle in slightly. It wasn't much, but her eyes finally stopped scanning over every micrometer of the space once more and her shoulders fell slightly. Her head cocked to the side slightly. </p>
<p>"And what is right by your standards?" She questioned back quickly, eyes raised. Marya hesitated. Marya did not know what she was anticipating when she told the woman to come to her office, though Marya had still not gotten used to the presence that had been lingering for the past ten minutes. She was certainly no older than Marya, very close in age if anything, yet her entire presence told the story she'd seen way too much way too soon. The precision and snark of her words was distinct, feeling almost routine. She was used to people testing her, Marya concluded. People didn't like to believe that pretty could kill. "This isn't a trick question. I just take recommendations,"</p>
<p>"I need you to follow certain criteria," Marya needed control. She needed it now more than ever. It was the biggest move she had ever made in her life, and it hopefully would be. And Helene was going to do it on her terms. "If you stray at all, if you fail, you get <em>nothing, </em>understand?" </p>
<p>"I don't fail," Helene stated it with such blank certainty Marya had to stare at her for a moment. "You think people pay me this much for a poor job? I hate to break it to you, but I have worked through far more notable people for far more technical tasks," The tension that cut through the room was palpable; Marya had a tough time swallowing. She was always in control, and yet right now Helene was yanking it out of her hands over and over again. "What are your parameters?" Helene was used to egos. </p>
<p>"I want it to be peaceful," Helene chuckled darkly. "And I want it clean," </p>
<p>"Marya-" Helene paused, and for a moment she seemed to freeze. It was a brief moment of something Marya had yet to see on her face: a realization. Her hands went to her hips, eyes down towards the floor as she laughed again. But before Marya could ask for an explanation, Helene continued on knowingly, "Who are we hiding this from?" </p>
<p>Marya recoiled at the word choice immediately. "<em>You </em>are hiding this from Natasha," Helene noted what she knew silently, hoping this woman wasn't as kind as the moral dilemma suggested. </p>
<p>"You mean the Natasha who saw me, a random person she has never seen in her life, walk into your office? You aren't serious," </p>
<p>"That's where the 'price tag' comes in," Marya air-quoted the slightly younger woman from her earlier observation, but that didn't seem to be on the list of Helene's concerns. </p>
<p>"I can't just-"</p>
<p>"My thirty thousand dollars say otherwise," There it was: Marya's comfort zone. Helene's jaw clenched, but she didn't respond right away. This was her business-her expertise was in people of power throwing their money around in her face as a reminder what she was working for. There had been hope for a moment there Marya wasn't just another in that resume. Then again, everyone had one hell of a reaction when their backs were against the wall. </p>
<p>"I appreciate your faith in me to give your employee amnesia, but that's out of my skillset without an extra charge for the head trauma," </p>
<p>"I said my parameters,"</p>
<p>"Your <em>workable </em>parameters," Helene corrected sharply, "I can't do this in one day if you expect anyone here to not know-"</p>
<p>Marya's face turned puzzled, "I didn't think this was a tomorrow contract," </p>
<p>"Okay," The brunette drew out slowly, "What is this, then?" </p>
<p>"A long-term one,"</p>
<p>"How long term?" </p>
<p>"Long enough to convince Natasha this was just a coincidence of timing,"</p>
<p>"I need dates, Marya,"</p>
<p>"March," 3 months was a long enough time, right? </p>
<p>"You want me to become your buddy for three whole months just to-"</p>
<p>"I told you I want to do this right," Marya snapped. it seemed as if suddenly the weight of the circumstances were hitting full force, punching her in the gut until she couldn't breathe. She didn't need this woman to get testy with her; she almost liked the void of a personality better. "Natasha will not know of this and Mary will not be scarred by any acts of brutality. Those are my parameters and you know my offer. Take it or leave it,"</p>
<p>"I can make that deal a guarantee. I'm just..." Helene sighed, groaning quietly and muttering a swear under her breath. "This is about his treatment of Mary, isn't it?" </p>
<p>Of course Helene would know. Marya, again, didn't know what else she should have been expecting. The woman was web-renowned, allegedly used by government officials, CEOs, and the like. Marya was not the first, fortieth, or hundredth person Helene had worked with. As someone who never would have imagined herself in this position, Marya couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a terrible one. "Partially,"</p>
<p>"You don't want her to find something bloody?" Helene guessed-though it was more of a statement. Marya couldn't decide how she felt about how well Helene had seen right through her. Nonetheless, the redheaded woman nodded. "And how long have you known about...<em>that?"</em></p>
<p>"A few days," </p>
<p>"You want painless?" Helene inquired, sounding the slightest bit surprised. Possibly even reluctant. "No throat slitting, strange accidents involving woodchippers, or-"</p>
<p>"That's a blunt way of putting it,"</p>
<p>"No one has invented a kind word for murder yet," </p>
<p>Marya didn't know how to respond to that. All she could do was look down at her desk and mouth a prayer that begged for forgiveness of what she was about to do. </p>
<p>Helene hummed again, peering down at her hands. It was guilt. And it hit Helene like a falling boulder Marya was a good person. <em>Fuck. </em>People with morals were not the easiest ones to work with: and even worse was when Helene was their first act of brutality. Helene was no moral compass, but she didn't like to watch that collapse. It would come, and it would be messy, all in time. Her hand went to pinch the bridge of her nose. "You want to do this?" Helene asked through narrowed eyes. "We can't go back on this," She pointed out again, sliding a paper onto the desk. </p>
<p>"I want that man peacefully dead by the end of March," </p>
<p>The deal was signed, and Helene was in for the long haul. </p>
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